Entwined
by TheAnonymousZee
Summary: (My first FF!) A short look into the peaceful bliss after the events of the anime, focusing on Crona (male) and Maka's budding relationship. (Crona is referred to with male pronouns but can also be interpreted as a girl... I tried to keep it somewhat neutral.) Rated "T" to play it safe; There's not much in this section, but there may be more "suggestive" content later on.


_(This is my first FF, so any and all criticism is greatly appreciated! I plan to add onto this in the near future.)_

(Update 10/5/13: Thank you to those who have followed/reviewed/read this short story! I will work on continuing it soon, but for now I want to focus on getting the first part right. I've made a few changes to some of the dialogue, specifically Maka's, to keep her in-character. If anyone else has some suggestions for this chapter or future parts, please PM me! Thanks!)

Entwined, Part 1

Crona may have been deprived of love as a child, but in those moments drifting off to sleep on Maka's couch, he couldn't even remember what hatred was. The warm, sweet air of her apartment swirled around him in blissful whirls, and the light citrusy pop of her shampoo tingled at the tip of his nose. Soul was gone for the day, off spending some time with Black Star, leaving Crona and Maka to idle peacefully all morning.

Maka was lightly leaning on him, the two supported by a small mound of squished pillows and hidden under a mass of thin blankets. They'd lay in this way whenever Crona found something he couldn't deal with, and thanks to Maka, that wasn't much these days. Sometimes it was even Maka who just needed a brake from the world, and would call Crona up to re-enter their own.

The light chirping of birds was carried in by a warm breeze from the far window, fragmented like sunlight through a catcher on the wall. Crona had never known such bliss, not in the confines of Medusa, not in the dungeons of the DWMA, not even in the classrooms he shared with Maka. None of that mattered when he was safe and secure within his cocoon of blankets, his drawn circle of sand with the one girl that knew how to tear it down.

She moved slightly now, readjusting herself to bring her hands from his chest and wrap them around him into a loose hug, her movements sluggish and gentle. Crona couldn't help but smile at the half-sleeping angel pressed against him, something that was no longer rare for him to do.

Not everything was fixed, of course. He still had trouble reaching out to most new people, but he no longer ran away. He was still very weak, but could violently defend Maka with greater endurance than ever. He was no longer alone, but felt the pang of loneliness with much more force than he ever had before. Crona often thought about this to himself, on the nights when he couldn't be with Maka. _I could almost miss being locked up for days with no concept of love._ He'd think silently, but soon remember some happy, sunlight and citrus filled memory of her and immediately say to himself, aloud, "No. I'd stay lonely a thousand nights to know she'd be happy and safe."

But Crona didn't have to think such sad thoughts now. He didn't have to worry about the future, look over his shoulder for Medusa, or keep Ragnarok out in weapon-form today. There was no battleground, no paranoia, only the breeze and the lightly breathing girl that clung to him. _I don't need to be strong anymore. She loves me even though I'm weak._ Crona's eyes welled with tears.

Over the past few months he doubted she even liked being near him, that she was only doing her job to stop Medusa back when she exorcised him. He couldn't see why anyone would want to look at him, let alone be his friend. And yet here he was, and they'd already told each other so much more.

That's right, the hardest part was over. The communication of such an abstract idea… That was all settled and done. It took him months to figure out what he was even feeling, and weeks more to think of the way to say it, and days more to work up the courage to say it, and hours more to find the right time to say it… And when it came down to minutes, Maka was the one who spoke first. Crona still couldn't process it, but he didn't care. Even if he was dreaming, it was one of the greatest reliefs of his life.

And now that the thought was out in the open between them, everything settled into place like the stirred-up dust on Maka's windowsill.

Crona adjusted himself slightly so he could observe Maka. Her hair was out of its ponytails, soft and light like a cup of milk and tea. Her vibrantly scented shampoo was like the lemon-wedge covered in honey on the rim of the cup. Crona wanted to feel her hair but feared waking her.

He slowly began to move his arm, gently as he could, for fear that the scene around him would shatter away if he moved too quickly. He carefully brought a trembling, nervous hand up to the back of her neck, slowly pushing his digits through the base of her roots. The soft strands gave little resistance, and he began tracing the lengths of her follicles, swooping back in again from underneath as though he was dipping his hand through the surface of a lake.

Crona's eyelids grew heavy and he began to drift off into a daze as he continued rhythmically conducting his hand through Maka's hair.

* * *

Maka shifted over slightly, reaching out to the Swordsman to wrap her arms around him. His robe was soft, and his bones underneath were becoming less prominent with each passing week. Getting him to eat is usually a difficult task, but when they cooked together, they could make enough food to keep Ragnarok full and away from Crona's share. They learned to feed the little weapon before relaxing together as well, working out a negotiation system with him. This naptime only cost them twenty bean buns, not a bad deal at all.

These naps started as a method of coping for Crona, on days when he had been too overwhelmed at the DWMA or over-worked himself in battle. Nowadays, these naps were more about calming down Maka.

* * *

"It's just not fair… I don't know what I'm doing wrong!"

"W-What can I do to help? I don't want you to be upset, Maka…"

_ "_I've been training every damn day, working as hard as I can, and I'm still not getting any stronger. Soul works hard and manages to play it cool, but I just get frustrated and fumble it up."

"M-Maka, you're the strongest person I know! Y-you're strong in many ways… Stronger than B-Black Star in some."

"But everyone else is improving, and I train almost every day with no results… I'm exhausted."

Maka let out a huff" and kicked over the empty garbage pail against the wall as Crona ran to the other room.

_Shit, I've scared him off. I should have watched my temper around him…  
_Maka bent over to pull the pail upright, clearing her throat.

"Crona? I'm OK, I just-"

Crona was running back into the room, a small stack of extra blankets in his arms.

"Maka, I… I don't w-want you to… To be upset."

He gestured to the couch with a tilt of his head, beginning to unfold the blankets as he made his way over on light feet. With slight resistance and a sigh, Maka followed, letting down her hair and standing next to the Swordsman. She'd often done the same for him, but never imagined herself as the one being soothed. Crona carefully placed each blanket and then peeled the corners back for their entrance.

"Crona?"

He swallowed hard before turning to her, a slight twitch in his posture as he did so.

"Thank you."

* * *

A wave of relief rushed over the Swordsman and his eyes welled with happiness. He managed a light shrug and smile, turning himself fully to her. Before he could even react, Maka swung her arms around the back of his neck, stretching up on her toes as she did.

Crona was in shock, back stepping to catch his balance, his arms nervously shaking at his sides. Maka pulled herself up to him, shutting her eyes and slightly parting her soft lips. A flash of heat flooded Crona's cheeks, and he stared wide-eyed in disbelief at how forward Maka was being.

She brought her lips to his, slowly and cautiously, as Crona began to tremble. His lips were pressed in a hard, frightened line, but after a moment of caressing the hair at the base of his neck, they relaxed. His body was still wound tight, his arms stiff as his side and his stomach tense.

After another moment of paralysis, Crona raised his shaking arms gingerly to hug Maka. The two stood together, heartbeats fluttering uncontrollably, until Maka moved her head back and retracted her arms to his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Crona… I know it makes you nervous."

Crona was nearly out of breath, but he managed to mutter a shy, "N-n-no, I… I liked it. I like… y-you, Maka."

She smiled.

"Of course you do, silly. And you know I like you very much, too. Right?"

Crona returned her smile.


End file.
